Chance of a Lifetime
by idtavstdi
Summary: James had a sister. The night of his murder, Dumbledore denied her the chance to raise Harry. So she left. 15 years later, she is asked to return. She does, but only to see Harry and the life she left behind. AU. Post OOTP. Full summary inside.
1. 1981

Ok, so this is my first one. So be nice. Constructive criticism is welcome. Key word: constructive. Flames will be used to bake cookies.  
I have most of the major plot worked out. However, I don't have all the details worked out yet, so your input could cause some major plot bunnies to come bouncing my way!!  
Reviews are great. Please leave them. Think about how good you feel when you read a great review. And spread the kindness.

Full Summary: James Potter has a sister, Serena. The night of his murder, Dumbledore denied her the chance to raise Harry in the Wizarding World. She left and vowed to never come back. 15 years later, she is asked to return. She does, but not because Dumbledore asked her to. She does it to see Harry, correct the mistakes she made with several people (Severus, Lupin, and Harry of course among others), and to take back the life she left behind. HBP and DH never happened.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I could buy characters, I would. But unfortunately I have to live with borrowing JKR's magical world instead.

Chapter 1 - 1981

Quite frankly, I was exhausted. Every bone in my body ached with a dullness that could only be attributed to the fine art of standing around a bloody cauldron for more than 13 hours. For all its usefulness, Blood – Replenishing Potions take a ridiculously long time to settle. About time someone invented a quicker way to make it.

Turning the flame down to a mere flicker, I ladled the top and middle thirds into beakers. Those would go to St. Mungo's, while the bottom third would remain in my care. I sighed. The war was getting worse and worse every day; with more people showing up for work under the Imperious or with obvious signs of being on the receiving end of a Cruciatus. Fortunately, I had the luxury to work in a small potions lab which did not have many employees and was protected by strong wards.

The screech of an alley cat startled me out of my musings. As safe as The Cornerstone Cauldron was, I was much safer sitting down in front of my own fireplace at home. I extinguished the flame and put all the ingredients away; the cauldron I set in a vat of water for it to soak overnight. All the dangerous things put away, I removed my lab robes and hung them upon the rack next to my other robes. The chill of the lab startled me, and I struggled to suppress a shiver. Quickly I pulled the comfort of my day robes around me, and after a second glance I tossed on my cloak as well.

The bottles of Blood-Replenishing Potion still remained on the table. The Mungo's portion I placed carefully in a box and set next to my desk. A quick glance at the clock told me it was too late to take it there, so I cast a slight warming charm on the box to keep it at room temperature. I took another glance around the lab. A twinkle in the moon's light caught my eye, and I huffed in annoyance. Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix would not be happy if I left those vials here. Each vial was placed in an individual pocket inside my robes, and I cast a Cushioning Charm around all of them. I glanced once more around the impeccably spotless room, and when I could detect nothing wrong I left.

As soon as I shut the door I could feel the wards sliding back into place. Well, my wards that is. Dumbledore had insisted that I place wards around my lab even though I found the building's wards to be quite sufficient. And though I initially argued with him at first, there was no harm in extra protection.

Down the hall there was still a light on in one of the other labs. I knew Master Greenweld, the owner of the research laboratory and residing Head Potions Master, had already left. And I was the only one working tonight… who could it possibly be? A shadow briefly covered the light, and instantly I pulled out my wand. Intruders, eh? I knew how to deal with them.

Stalking towards the light, I strained to listen for any sound they might have the mistake of giving off. The gentle scratch of a broom on a stone floor caught my attention. What thief would have the idiocracy to sweep the floor? As I pondered that question, another sprang to mind. Why didn't the wards sound? I reached out and placed my palm against the wall. The tingle and slight pulsing of the stone walls spoke of un-breached wards. Who was this person, and why aren't the wards down?

Not being able to stand it any longer, I stretched to full height and burst into the lab. A clean lab, and a slightly startled young wizard sweeping the floor, stared back at me. I relaxed. I had forgotten that Thomas, Master Greenweld's son, comes by every night to sweep the lab. I gave him a light smile and bade him goodnight.

I checked the rest of the rooms before I fully left the building, but they were all spotless. As usual. Not normal though was a glance I threw over my shoulder back at the building. Cornerstone was not a large facility by any means. Sandwiched between Ollivander's and a second-hand robe shop at the end of Diagon Alley, I'm surprised anyone can find it. But in its own way, it was just as spectacular as Gringotts. Not as pristine on the exterior perhaps, but still spectacular.

A gust of wind blew my thoughts away. Damn it was cold! Without a further thought, I Apparated to a street nearby my house. Normally I would walk, but tonight it was just too cold to do so. My cloak wrapped itself around me, as if it knew how chilly I was. I almost stopped to thank it before I realized that I was in the middle of a muggle street with wizard attire. And that I was not alone.

Dozens upon dozens of tiny witches, warlocks, goblins, vampires, ghouls, and other mysterious characters ran amuck about the streets and sidewalks. My first thought was that I've finally gone insane. I pinched myself. It hurt. No, I was definitely still sane. A high pitched cry dictating something or another about candy brought me back down to earth. I remember one of my friends telling me about a muggle holiday called Halloween. A quick glance at my watch confirmed that it was, indeed, Halloween. October 31, 1981 to be exact (well, it was. Now it was well past midnight). From what I remember of her description, muggles were expected to dress up as witches and other magical creatures and beg each other for candy. I snorted. What a ludicrous holiday. Although it did offer me some disguise and saved me from jumping into a bush, for there were adults that were dressed in a semi-similar fashion. I quickly brushed past a few children and bounded up the stairs into my flat.

Immediately, the wards touched my senses. Something was wrong. There was someone in my house.

I didn't even bother removing my cloak; I simply withdrew my wand and, for the second time that night, prepared to attack. And for the second time that night, my so-called intruder was a harmless person. Albus Dumbledore sat upon my couch watching the stars. In the distance one could see fireworks.

"Good evening my dear," he murmured in a low voice. Although he tried to keep it out, I could feel the loss and despair radiating off of his voice. My brow furrowed and my lip unconsciously found its way between my teeth.

"Headmaster?"

He finally turned his head toward me. Though there was not a prominent source of light in the room, I could clearly see the glistening streaks that clear crystalline fluid had left behind, though there was currently only one tear falling from his eyes. My fear multiplied exponentially. There were few events that could cause the great wizard to break down, and obviously one had just happened. His lachrymose sky blue eyes met my fearful hazel ones.

"Please Albus," I whispered. "Tell me it's not true…"

The Headmaster broke eye contact. He stared at the teacup in his hands, which I noticed were trembling slightly. His hands, however, were no match for my muscles. After his confirmation that my fears were not unfounded, I lost all control over myself. A squashy armchair somehow found its way behind me as I slumped gracelessly into its folds. I was shaking so horribly than I almost didn't catch his voice when he began to speak.

"Less than 30 minutes ago, the wards around Godric's Hollow fell. As quickly as I could, I gathered the inner ranks of the Order and we Apparated there. But we were too late." My eyes shut, and I could feel the prickle of tears. I did not attempt to stop them from falling freely down my face. His somber voice continued.

"The house was completely destroyed; the Dark Mark hovered above the remains. As we combed the territory, we found James' and Lily's bodies." I stiffened. I had seen some of the cruel torture Voldemort and his followers could execute. None of it left any piece of flesh unscathed.

"Neither of them were tortured, simply tossed aside. A quick, painless death." My rigid body relaxed a fraction. At least my brother and his wife didn't suffer. Wait a minute. The Headmaster only mentioned James and Lily…

"Albus, what about Harry, Sirius, Remus, and Peter?"

Dumbledore continued to stare at his now cold tea. "Peter is dead. Sirius is on the run. Remus is as Hogwarts but is otherwise fine. Harry… is alive."

To say that I was surprised was a definite understatement. I was completely shocked. Nearly a full minute passed before it finally hit me. _Harry is alive._ But then another thought hit me as well. If he was alive, where was he? I tentatively voiced this question to the Headmaster. He broke his staring contest with the teacup and turned his gaze to me. His eyes still held none of the sparkle they normally held. Instead, they were careful and watchful, noting my every move. Something was still very wrong.

"I do not wish to repeat this. Once, I'm sure you can imagine, is hard enough. Twice I will not do. I need you to trust me that my choices are for the best of everyone, most of all Harry." I nodded, still slightly unsure of where this conversation was headed off to. "While looking at the house, I was able to figure out that James had tried to forewarn Lily of Voldemort's coming and told her to take Harry and escape. His distraction gave them enough time to run upstairs into the nursery." I remembered the house well, having spent more than my fair share of time there watching Harry, talking with my brother and sister-in-law, and occasionally indulging myself in a few of Sirius' pranks. Dumbledore continued, his voice weary.

"Voldemort had entered the room alone. Lily put herself between him and Harry, and I presume he told her to step aside. She refused to, and he killed her while she was protecting him. With Lily… removed… from the situation, there was only Harry left. He attempted to kill baby Harry, but he failed. Do you know why he failed?"

I did. "He failed because, in Lily dying to protect her son, she activated an ancient blood magic that protects the deceased's blood relative from being harmed by the same person that killed them. So when You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry, the curse simply rebounded off of him and back onto himself," I stated. I've always sounded a bit like a textbook; it's in my nature. But I hated it right about now, for sounding like a dusty old tome means reading them and absorbing the knowledge. And more dangerously, thinking. Being the thought-filled scholar I was, dozens of questions exploded, each clamoring to be answered. But two questions fled to the forefront. Before I could compose myself in any way, I had already blurted them out. "Is You-Know-Who dead? Who's going to take care of Harry?"

"No, I do not believe Voldemort is dead. I am not certain, but instincts tell me that he is alive in some way, shape, or form," he answered. Well, that satisfied my first question. I arched my eyebrows slightly, silently repeating the second question.

"As you know, the blood protection will continue if he is in a residence of someone from his savior's family. As Lily had no magical relatives, her only living relation was, and is, Petunia Dursley," he continued. I had only met the woman once, but nothing about her, or her husband for the matter, had led me to believe that kind and generous Lily Potter was related to that disgusting, revolting, magic-hating bunch of individuals. Magic-hating. Oh shit.

"Albus Dumbledore, you do not mean to tell me that you left a magical child in the care of the most obstinate and rotten muggles you could find!" My voice, which started out coolly with a trace of anger, had completely switched to furious with a trace of frost. He sighed, and tried to speak. I cut him off. "I don't give a damn about the blood ward; Harry is 2000 off with me as his caretaker. Hell Dumbledore, you should have just left him in a goddamn shelter!! At least he would stand a chance!!!" I was only slightly appalled at my vulgar language. I never swear or disrespect the Headmaster, and I had just done both in the same sentence. But this time he had overstepped his boundaries. James and Lily had jointly agreed that if anything ever happened to either one of them that Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I were to fill their place. It was in writing, locked and bound in their files at the Ministry. Well, now Peter was out of the question. I won't lie – I never liked Peter. His presence always filled me with unease. But I tolerated him for James' sake. His loss was not incredibly heartfelt though. And Dumbledore had said Sirius was on the run… I would have asked about him, but at this point I was too angry. However, it did seem that he wasn't able to care for Harry. Remus… I adored the wolf. I still do. But unfortunately the Ministry, much less the rest of the Wizarding world, would never let him raise a child. So that left me. By the Potter's will I was supposed to have custody of Harry. But by Dumbledore's will Harry was in the care of muggles that would destroy him. And he knew full well of the Potter's will; he was their eyewitness! The fact that he was completely disrespecting James and Lily's wishes completely drove me over the edge. That was the last straw.

"Albus, I am giving you one chance and one chance only. Go retrieve Harry Potter from the Dursley's house now, and I will raise him as James would have wanted me to. If you refuse, I will leave the Wizarding world and never return."

The Headmaster's cerulean blue eyes found my hazel ones once again. I wondered how the man was a master Occlumens when his emotions were so clearly plastered upon his face. Sorrow, regret, and determination assaulted my vision. He had made his choice. Harry was to remain at the Dursley's.

Without a word I disappeared upstairs into my bedroom. I shrunk everything I owned and put it inside one of the deeper pockets of my robes. Robes that James had given to me for my birthday almost a month ago. That man certainly knew how much I adored pockets. Every room was raided, every item shrunken. Once finished with the upper level, I went back downstairs and into the basement, which I had turned into a private lab. All the ingredients, cauldrons, and other utensils that were not affected by magic were placed in a trunk and then shrunken. All the ones that were… well they would have to remain behind.

Completely finished with the lab, I went back upstairs and shut the door for one last time. Everything I owned, except the chair Albus was sitting on, was shrunken and placed in my pocket with the rest of my household accessories. I strode over to the door, robes billowing behind me.

"Do not attempt to find me. I will never return. Tonight you have betrayed my trust, something which you will never find yourself in the possession of again. I am leaving."

I was almost halfway out the door when another thought came to mind. "Albus, never tell Harry that I even exist. James is now an only child."

Oh God. It hurt to say that. I had sometimes joked around with him about being an only child, but now… I was. He was. Before I could collapse, I rammed the front door shut, ran to the edge of the Apparation wards, and with a resonating crack, disappeared.


	2. The Letter

Disclaimer: I own nothing of JKR's wonderful world.

Chapter 2 – The Letter

"Alright, alright. Let's wrap it up." The voice of the anesthesiologist let me know that it was time to sew the wound shut. I grabbed the needle, which someone had carefully threaded with dissolvable thread, and slowly stitched back together the muscle and skin over the heart.

The gurney rumbled away as soon as the needle left my hands, the open wound now closed. I went to remove my mask so I could breathe properly, but someone shot me a warning glance. Shoot. Why did I even think to remove that when I was still in the OR?

I picked up the booties that had somehow fallen off my feet during the surgery and left the Operating Room through a small door in the back. A blast of air greeted me, and I forcibly exhaled, as I had been trained to do. The pressure released soon, and I continued forward, removing all protective gear. Of course, the mask went first. I absolutely detested breathing through that mask. Pity no one mentioned it in the recruiting video. Actually, the whole cleaning procedure wasn't mentioned in it. Oh well, just another flaw in the medical system.

Finally completely clean and with all traces of the previous surgery gone, I headed into the locker room, where a few of the residents were still chatting about how well the double bypass had gone. I smiled. Heaven forbid that someone try to tell the students that there was something more pleasurable in the world than discussing the latest surgery at Northwestern Hospital. One of them spotted me, and with no trace of guilt on my mind I quickly joined in.

The topic of conversation turned from surgery to insurance and later to sports. I was having a heated discussion with one of the 4th year residents on which baseball team was better, White Sox or Cubs, when a doctor I didn't recognize bumped into me. The stack of folders he was carrying fell on the floor, though luckily the records did not spill out of their containers.

"I'm incredibly sorry," he stammered.

"Don't worry about it. Apology accepted." I bent down to help him pick up the scattered folders. I handed the few I had gathered to him. Our eyes met; his were a warm, sparkling grey. And they had a bit of an omnipresent twinkle to them, just like….. No. It couldn't be. I did a double take. No, it must have been my imagination. His eyes were just warm and grey. Nothing more.

He seemed to sense my slight agitation. "Dr. Strazinski? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes I'm fine," I replied. We both stood up, and I nodded slightly at his unspoken farewell. He turned and continued walking down the hallway, but before I could blink he had disappeared, lost in the crowd of patients, nurses, janitors, and other doctors. I didn't have much time to ponder where he went though, for I heard a rather large, red-headed figure bellow my name.

"STRAZINSKI!!!! I thought you were done with that operation nearly an hour ago!" The Head of the Cardiology Department, Dr. Hamelton, stood immediately in my view. I noticed all the residents I had been conversing with earlier were still near my side. One of them nudged me out of my absent-mindedness, and I immediately addressed the figure before me.

"Yes, Dr. Hamelton, I was finished not 45 minutes ago."

"Then why in the world are you still here? I thought I gave you explicit orders to leave after you were done with that surgery."

"You did sir. I simply," here I struggled with the right word, "forgot." I wasn't lying. I never did lie. I had forgotten, and the encounter with that unknown doctor had even further distracted me. I suppose it was my fault. I do remember him coming to tell me to leave directly after I was done, now that I think about it. Now the doctor was giving me a strange look. What did I do this time?

"All of you actually should be sleeping. If I don't remember, residents, there is a big presentation on the artificial heart tomorrow that I want notes on. I'm also sure you all could benefit from it." A murmur swept around the tiny cluster, and I could tell that they had completely forgotten of the speech tomorrow as well. I was supposed to be going too. "Every single one of you should either go down to the coffee shop now and order a cup of joe to take home or just go directly to bed and get up a few minutes early to get one. There will be coffee as refreshment beforehand, but I do not suggest you drink it. Usually it's not of high quality. Off to bed, all of you! Except you, Strazinski. I want a word with you." The group moved off without me, one or two of them giving me a few pitied glances. A brief shake of my head sent them all on their way. I reluctantly followed Dr. Hamelton back to his office. A broad sweep of his hand gave me leave to sit down, and I did so gratefully. He shut the door with a precise click.

"Strazinski, what's wrong with you? All of this week you've been acting strangely, with suspicious glances at everyone, even the residents! First I heard you misplaced a file, which I overlooked because you seemed to be extremely distraught. However, today someone informed me of you trying to take off your mask not 2 minutes after the surgery was over. And less than a minute ago, you called me sir." I did? Oh shit. "You know my rules. You know how much I hate any other title than Doctor. And normally you're quite a cheerful person too. This isn't like you. What's wrong?" During his little rant I had been trying to think of a good excuse to worm my way out of this one. Damn. Had I really done all that in a week?

"I…I'm not quite sure what to say. I know I haven't been myself this week. And well, let's face it; Grady's death certainly hasn't helped me." I sighed. My husband, Grady Strazinski, had died nearly 2 years ago in a car crash with a drunk driver. It was quite a blow to the medical community, for he had been a surgeon as well. That's how we met. We were doing our residencies together. We both had actually worked under Dr. Hamelton as well. His shoulders lowered a bit at the mention of Grady. The head doctor had treated Grady like a son, and was devastated at his death.

"He was a great guy, Grady was. How's Crystal faring?"

"She's doing better." She was. Our daughter, Crystal, was completely overcome with grief at his death. She had cried on end for months, and I had almost run out of hope that she would ever recover. But one night, somehow, she stopped mourning and started moving on. Not a day goes by that she doesn't pray for him to be safe in Heaven.

Crystal had truly been her father's child. Not exactly in looks, but personality wise they were the same person. She had gotten his wild love of laughter and passion for nature, as well has his brilliant mind. She was the most gregarious child I had ever met, but the most kind-hearted as well. Not a single joke was done in order to harm another person. She had gotten his devious, sparkling bright green eyes streaked with brown flecks, and his wavy, thick hair. The color, though, was a deep gold, just like mine. "She's going to be 11 soon. I forgot to ask, are you going to come to her party? She asked specifically for you."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. But quit trying to distract me. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm not going to lie; I've been a bit off this past week. However, I'm sure it's nothing I can't work out. I'll be back to myself in no time — I promise." Well if that wasn't convincing, I don't know what was.

He gave me a slightly suspicious look before settling down behind his desk. "Alright, Strazinski. But if you ever need anything, you call me, ok?" I swiftly nodded my agreement. He relaxed, and cracked a slight smile. "Go home and get some sleep. I think you could use it. Actually, take tomorrow off. I'll get someone to fill in for you." I smiled in gratitude. I turned to walk out the door when his voice stopped me. "Wait a second. Strazinski, someone came in earlier looking for you while you were in the OR. I told him you were busy and that he could wait, but he said he would meet you later. He also left you this." From his desk drawer he pulled out an envelope with a few too many stamps. 'Doctor' was scribbled in thin, slanted ink. The envelope itself was poorly made, and seemingly fashioned out of… parchment? I found myself bidding the doctor goodnight and telling him I was stopping by my office to pick up a few magazines and my coat. And before I knew it, I was standing outside my office, envelope still in hand.

Quickly I shed my lab coat and hung it on the old-fashioned coat rack next to my desk. I replaced it with a light jacket, which I wrapped around my slender frame and buttoned halfway up. The envelope I tossed upon the desk while I shoved a few issues of Newsweek, a newspaper, and a random gossip magazine under my arm. I was tempted to leave the envelope here and forget about it, but something compelled me to just open it up. It seemingly jumped into my partially outstretched hand and begged me to open it. My curiosity got the better of me, and I tore away the flap that was loosely attached. A scroll unfurled itself and jumped away from its papery imprisonment, landing on the floor. On contact with the ground it re-rolled itself. I bent down, picked up the scroll, and unrolled it. The writing was in the same, thin, slanted handwriting that was on the envelope. I squinted a bit, and began to read:

_I know you didn't want to see me when you left. However, circumstances have changed. I am in need of a contempt professor. I have respected your wishes thus far. I will see you tomorrow evening in your house at precisely 11:00 PM your time. Until then, take care.  
__AD_

AD. Who the hell was AD? Well, there was one possibility…

NO. I would not think about that. Absolutely not.

Not until I was in my own house anyway.

Roughly, I shoved both the envelope and the scroll into my coat pocket. Hastily I left my office, shutting the door quickly behind me. I bothered to greet no one on my way out of the hospital, and thankfully no one tried to talk to me. I left the Cardiology Unit, and the Hospital, without a word to anyone.

The cool wind of Chicago prompted me to button up my jacket a bit further. I walked along the brightly light streets until I came to my routine bus stop. Fortunately I did not have to wait long before a bus came into view. I hopped on, paid my fare, and sat down in the front. All the way there I refused to pay attention to anyone or my thoughts, instead focusing on a stain on the seat across from me. I was so focused that I nearly missed my stop, the last one on the route. The not-so gentle prodding of the driver startled me out of my studies and I hurriedly apologized and left.

The bus had been fairly warm, but the night air was equally as chilling. Goddamnit it was the middle of June; how could the suburbs be this cold? I buttoned my jacket to the top and walked the remaining mile to my house. My warm, inviting house. Even though Crystal was at a friend's house, it would still be warm. Oh, I could not wait until I was inside.

Less than 15 minutes later, I opened up the front door. True to my imagination, my house radiated heat. I relaxed and completely undid my coat, hanging it inside the closet connected to the foyer. After removing my shoes, I went to the kitchen where I poured myself a tumbler of single malt whiskey. The bottle stared back at me, and instead I grabbed it and the now-filled tumbler. I took both into the living room, sat down on the couch, and drank to my heart's content. The bottle was only a quarter empty, though, when my brain had the stupidity to start thinking.

It was nearly 15 years since my brother and his wife were murdered. In that time, I had completely relocated myself from England to America. Taking all my possessions with me, I eventually settled in Chicago after trying out a few other places first. True to my word, I completely left the Wizarding World. I met absolutely no one in the wizarding community all the time I was here. What didn't occur to me, though, was finding a job. I couldn't just create muggle money; that would look suspicious. So I signed up at the local university to earn a degree in medicine. I met my husband Grady on the first day of our residency, and a year later we were married. I had Crystal less than a year later. Crystal, Grady, and I had lived a wonderful, magic free life until Grady was killed. Then it was just Crystal and I.

A few weeks before the accident, Crystal had started to exhibit some strange behaviors. Things would happen that neither she nor Grady could explain. Hoping with all my might that it wasn't accidental magic, I didn't vouch any explanations either. As the weeks went on, the occurrences only got more frequent. I frantically thought of some way to explain to him that our child was, indeed, a witch. But it never happened. The accident happened, and Crystal's bouts of accidental magic died with him. At this point, I'm still not sure if she's a witch or not. All I know is that I will continue to support her, no matter what she is. I, however, will not get drawn back into the world of magic.

Magic. The word brought me back to the letter. I put the half-filled tumbler down on the table and went back over to my jacket. I removed the letter and the envelope, and after a bit of thought I walked through the hallway to a hall closet. Upon opening the door, I was assaulted with a few misplaced dishcloths, but nothing spectacular. I put the towels in their rightful spot, and then pulled on a jar of black olives on the shelf above my head. The back of the closet drew away from me, and then shifted itself to the left. I walked forward, stepping down the two wooden steps leading into my study. I could hear the closet slide back into place, but I had already gone forward to put the parchment on my desk. A fire crackled merrily into the night, and a small, deep brown owl flew over to my shoulder.

"Hello, Richter," I mumbled, not paying him full attention. He gave me look that quite clearly said 'You've been working too hard' and an affectionate nip on the ear. I gently smoothed his feathers back and fed him a walnut, his favorite. He flew back to his stand to devour the treat, and I slumped down gracelessly in front of the fire.

Despite my attempts to completely rid myself of magic, I had not been able to. So when I bought this house, I had built a room completely devoted to magic. My potions lab was in a door to the left of the fireplace, near my desk. Everything else I owned that was magical was in a room to the right of the fireplace. All around me, I had bookshelf after bookshelf of books and magical artifacts. I rarely made any potions anymore, although I did look through the books quite often to keep up on theory. If I ever wanted to make something, I sent Richter off to fetch the ingredients I didn't have. I have never entered any magical community in America, and I never plan to. Ever. Dumbledore, it seems though, has different ideas.

Dumbledore. That man has put me through so much pain, so much misery. The night I left, I had completely broken down as soon as I Apparated away. True, he has never contacted me before this. But now… now he's put me in a corner, and he knows it! Anger boiled up inside me, and I pulled out my wand to hex the next unfortunate thing that crossed my path. My wand. I hadn't used it in years, not since I had to fix one of Crystal's dolls. The shining wood surface gleamed back at me. Eleven and a half inches. Ivy. Tail hair of a Unicorn. Resilient. I laid down on the couch and promptly fell asleep, still holding my wand.

I woke up several hours later to the sun's rays streaming across my face. Richter was still sleeping, for I could hear his gentle breathing even from my position on the couch. Something hard poked me in the side, and I reached over to swat the annoyance. The slender object just poked me right back. My wand! I grabbed the dark piece of wood and shoved it back into my pants pocket, but not before I cast a quick, "tempus". The time in bright red characters told me that it was 3 o'clock in the afternoon. A nagging memory told me that Albus Dumbledore was coming to meet me in 8 hours. And a dull headache told me that I had a slight hangover.

I decided to take care of the latter first. I pulled a bottle of Advil out of my pocket and took a few of the round tablets. That would have to do until I could make a Hangover Cure. My headache wasn't pounding my brain or threatening to go to other parts of my body, so I chose to make the quicker, weaker version. It took less than 30 minutes to concoct, and in the hour my headache was completely eradicated. My stomach rumbled slightly, and I realized I had not visited the loo in quite a long time either. Another 30 minutes later I was a clean, showered, and fed individual.

For a few minutes I entertained myself with the thought of retrieving Crystal early from her friend's house. I would never do it of course; I did not want her to meet people that probably shouldn't exist. But still, the thought was entertaining.

I found myself slumped back on my living room couch. Waiting for the inevitable was hard. My legs twitched, and I curled up into a ball on the couch. They wouldn't stop though. The muscle spasms just got worse the more I tried to calm them down. Frustrated to no end, I stood up and walked around the room. The nervousness and agitation only increased. I knew this feeling. I knew it well. And although I hadn't felt it in a while, well, maybe it would do me good to run around.

The sun was still shining brightly when I left the house. I cursed; I had forgotten the sun didn't set until late. Well, that would be my watch then, for I didn't feel like taking one with. My legs moved briskly of their own accord, and they directed me to the local forest preserve.

Although it wasn't the largest one in the world, the forest was still colossal enough to hide me. Towering oaks, maples, birches, and other various trees sheltered me from the bright sun, while dense bushes and fallen logs coated the forest floor. Moss grew on nearly all the trees, and other forms of fungi were fairly evident in most places. Instead of nauseating me like it normally did, the rich scent of the forest injected me with a sense of peace and calm. The ridiculous twitching of my muscles had ceased slightly, but it was still present. I walked farther into the woods. I wanted no one to see me.

Once I was far enough into the depths of the forest, I stopped walking, looked around to make sure no one had followed me, and then allowed the spasms to take over. I could feel myself shrinking and growing an extra appendage, although it wasn't painful. Actually, it tickled a bit. My fingers and hands had shrunken into paws, and from what I could feel of my face my nose and ears had lengthened themselves quite a bit. The slight swish of a tail behind me confirmed that my transformation was done. The trickle of a stream drew me near; I had forgotten what I looked like and wanted to see myself again.

The pristine image of a grey wolf stared back at me. Well, I think it was grey – I forgot I couldn't see color very well. Flecks of another color (gold perhaps?) adorned the mask around my cheeks and forehead, stretching all the way down to the tip of my nose. Eyes the same color as the flecks watched me curiously as I turned as far as I could to still see my reflection. The mask on my face spread, from what I could see, down my neck and across my back. It followed my spine down to the tip of my tail, which otherwise was a light grey. The rest of me was a darker grey, except for socks of light grey around all four of my paws that blended nicely with the rest of me at my shoulders and thighs, and a small messy black scar on my chest in the shape of a triangle connected to a plus sign. I knew what it was only because that same scar was on the front of my left shoulder. Otherwise, people would just ignore it, as it blended in quite perfectly with the rest of me.

I continued admiring myself for a while. It had been ages since I had been in my Animagus form, not since James…I sighed, although it sounded more like a huff. I missed my brother. I turned away from the river and started to walk along the shoreline. The trees and bushes blurred as I picked up speed. Soon I was running with all my might, steering my legs only so that I stayed near the shore.

I don't know how long I ran. I just kept running. Eventually the river ended in a small pool, as I had been running upstream. I went into the pond to get a drink and ended up collapsing in the cool water. The liquid soaked through my fur and onto my heated skin. I panted heavily, greedily lapping up the cool water. Once I had my fill and the water had thoroughly cooled me off, I got up and began the long trek back home.

Instead of running back, even though the sun was going down, I decided to walk. It would give me more time to prepare anyway.

Even though I promised I would never return, I had missed the life of a wizard. I missed going to work every morning to experiment on different healing potions. I missed collapsing every night in front of the fire with a cup of tea and a good book. But most of all, I missed the people I had left behind.

Despite me being in Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall had immediately brought me under her wing. I adored the tiny Charms professor, but McGonagall had a way with me that no one else ever did. I suppose it was James' charm and charisma that lured her into the Potter family, for I wasn't exactly the most verbal person in the world. But she had attached to the both of us, and I had spent many a night in her office arguing over the differences between some miniscule detail or another worthless topic. Even after I graduated, I still kept in constant contact with her and would often drop by during the holidays. She would keep me updated on my younger brother's mischief and I would give her information on the rest of the world. I suppose Albus told her why I left. I hope he did anyway.

I was only a few years older than James, but he had immediately accepted me into his rambunctious group of friends. They really changed me. All of them. I had been so reticent and taciturn before they came along and dragged me out of my shell. Not to say that I wasn't unappreciative, of course. I enjoyed, and even found myself participating in, some of their pranks. However, I did refuse to indulge in any joke against Snape. I knew how it felt to be attacked when there was no one to support you. So I never participated when the target was him. Often I would find Remus not participating either. I never asked him why, now that I think about it.

Remus. I missed the werewolf. He was so thoughtful and gentle. He never had a mean word for anyone, and when he was angry the recipient fully deserved it. When James had found out a way for all of us to become Animagi, Remus was the happiest person I had ever seen. He was nearly ready to transform right there and then just so he could have company. He never ceased to amaze me with his capacity for kindness. The other two Marauders, Sirius and Peter, didn't impress me as much, although Sirius was genuinely a good fellow if not a bit rough. Occasionally he would let his emotions consume him and would act without thinking, but otherwise he was a real Gryffindor at heart. I never heard someone insult anyone of us in front of Sirius and not leave with a considerable amount of damage to their ego or reputation. Peter, though, I had never liked. He had no spine, and never stood up for himself. He was always a tag-along. I never said anything to James about it, and the one time I did he got quite angry and heavily chastised me for berating an innocent. I told him to look at his treatment of Snape. That was the only topic we ever honestly fought about. Otherwise, we were as close as could be. It didn't matter though. Peter was dead. And so was James.

I missed the Order. Not all of it; there were a few people I questioned to be on the Dark side. I doubt, and wonder, if the Order still exists today. Probably not. We were losing too many people as it was. But I miss the danger and excitement the missions Dumbledore sent me on. I miss the research I had to do. I miss Lily's and Mrs. Weasley's cooking for the meetings. Although Molly was good, Lily was an exceptional cook, and made the best food I had ever tasted. I used to tease her about taking lessons from the house elves at Hogwarts. She would just laugh.

I wondered how Harry was faring. This was definitely not the first time I had done so. I often thought about my nephew. I wondered what subjects he excelled in. I wondered who his friends were. Which house was he in? Gryffindor probably; both James and Lily were. Was he good at Quidditch? James was an exceptional Chaser; maybe Harry had inherited his talents. God, what does he look like? The last memory I have of him is a month or two after his birthday. He was one. How old is he now? He was born in July… he's going to be 16. Wow. I hope he still has Lily's eyes. From what I remember he looked more like James though…

I was paying so little attention to my surrounding that I walked straight into a tree. Fortunately I was not walking very fast so it didn't hurt, but now that I was in the mood to take a closer look around me, I was nowhere near the river. Shit. How am I going to get back? And more importantly, where was I?

The thick scent of forest still penetrated the air, so I hadn't left the forest preserve in my meanderings. Wait. Scent. Smell… of course! I could smell my way back to the river! I hurriedly shoved my nose down in search of a scent that was not forest or ground. I found one directly behind me, and continued to follow it.

Fortunately, I had not strayed too far off the river's edge. Luck was on my side tonight, for I found myself not too far from the path leading out of the forest as well. The dark glow of the moon reflected off the river suggested that the sun had already disappeared for the night, and with a slight sense of disappointment I changed back into human form. I forgot how good it felt to run around as a wolf.

I walked out of the forest and back to my home. The houses I passed still had lights on inside, so it couldn't have been too far into the evening. My house stood out at the lack of illumination. A light smirk crossed my face. Trust me to be the weird one.

I crossed the steps to the front door. I had left the door unlocked, not purposely though. It opened with a light groan, and I stepped inside to the warmth of my dark home. I flicked a switch on in the foyer, and the small entry glimmered with light. The room, though, was not the only thing that sparkled. Three pairs of eyes stared back at me as well.

The first set was a warm hazel, and it belonged to a short man with brown hair. The second set was a cool cerulean blue. That was all I could see, for the owner was hidden in the shadows. And the third pair was the sparkling sky blue set of Albus Dumbledore.

"I trust you received my note, then?" He questioned.

"Yes, I did." My voice was not exactly the warmest. But my brain was filled with questions. "How did you find me? Why did you find me? How is Harry? And who are they?" I gestured, pointing to his two companions.

"I will answer all your questions in due time, my dear. In the meantime, sit down and have a cup of tea."

A cup of strong tea did sound good. But my living room was the wrong place to do it. "Albus, under risk of being watched by the surrounding muggles, can we move this conversation to a … more appropriate place?"

"Absolutely." He stood, an unspoken signal for the two others to follow him. I led all three of them to my closet, where I opened up the back for entrance to my study. They all filed in, situating themselves around the fireplace but not sitting. The Headmaster was the only one who sat down, and that was in his favorite squashy armchair.

Now that both of his companions were in the light, I studied them. They both seemed familiar somehow, although I recognized neither one. The first one, the one with hazel eyes, had no spectacular air about him. No, he seemed like a normal wizard. None of his features stood out, and his robes were a normal black. The second person gave off an air of mistrust, his azure eyes calculating me and watching my every move. Other than the frost in his eyes, he was quite attractive. Slightly above average height with spiked, dark, black hair, the man spoke of unused power and intelligence. Clean-cut black robes and boots completed the picture. Once he was completely sure I was not going to attack the Headmaster, he allowed his eyes to roam about the room, stopping and widening slightly at the potions lab. He went over to investigate, and I made no move to stop him.

I was brought out of my studying by some light murmuring between Dumbledore and the short wizard. A slight nod of the Headmaster's head confirmed whatever question the other wizard asked, his eyes still twinkling at me. The short man stood up, and walked over to me.

"Do you have any idea how much pain you've caused us?!? How many nights we've wondered where you were? If you were even alive?!?" At the end of his rant, he was breathing lightly.

"I'm sorry, sir. But I have no idea who you are." The man muttered under his breath, and pulled out his wand. I stepped back and prepared to draw my own. But he just pointed it at himself and said something. His features morphed and swirled, and when they had righted themselves, the stern but worried face of Professor Minerva McGonagall stared straight back at me. I let out a yelp of joy and jumped across the distance between us. She soon found herself wrapped in my unrelenting embrace.

Minerva. I hadn't seen her since God knows when. It felt too long though, however long ago it really was. I could feel her arms wrap around me and hug me back, although not as tightly. She had gotten older. I finally released her and had her sit in the couch directly across the fire. Her hands were shaking slightly as they picked up the cup of tea that Albus offered her.

"Professor, I'm so sorry. I didn't think at all and I didn't send a note or anything of where I was or how I was and…"

"Stop it." She cut me off with a vague sweep of her hand. "What matters now is that you are alright and in one piece. The past is the past. I have forgiven you for your foolish actions." She allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up, the closest to a smile anyone could get out of her. "Let's just move forward."

"With pleasure." I grinned broadly. She always knew how to make me feel better. But the man in the corner did not put me at ease. I got up from the seat I had taken near McGonagall and walked over to him. As soon as I left my seat, his eyes were focused on me, and they watched me approach him.

"Are you disguised as well?" I had never really been one for skirting around the truth.

"Yes," was his simple reply. His voice was just as frosty as his eyes, but soft and deep. This man was quite a conundrum.

"Are you going to take your mask off?"

"No."

"What if I say you have to?"

"It will stay in place."

"Who are you really?"

"If I wanted you to know I would have removed my disguise."

"Why are you here?"

"Of my own accord."

"Can you answer any of my questions without a smart aleck answer?"

"Yes."

"Will you?"

"I will do no such thing." His eyes flashed angrily at me. "Albus, I am on a limited schedule. Can we please proceed at a faster rate?"

"Yes of course. Serena, come sit down." I glared at the other man before I moved off to sit in my previous seat.

"As an answer to all of your questions that you asked earlier… I found you when the local apocathary recognized your owl. I had put out notices stating that the owl had escaped and anyone who had seen it was to contact me. They told me of the owl, and I deduced that you were living nearby, within a reasonable journey from the city. Along with a few others, we combed the city in search for you. Finally, Kingsley found you working at the hospital. It was significantly easier to track down the rest of the details then. Why are we here? I am here to inform you of four things. First of all, Sirius Black is dead." I gasped. Of all the things I had expected, this was not one of them. "He died a fortnight ago during a raid at the Ministry." At this, the man in the corner glared heavily at the wall. I ignored him. "Second, Voldemort is back." Whatever shock I had received at news of Sirius' death was nothing compared to the horror and desperation I felt now.

"Are… are you sure?" My normally confident voice was reduced to nothing more than a whisper.

"Unfortunately, yes. He was resurrected by a few of his faithful followers nearly a year ago. However, the Minister refused to accept his return, and insisted that all was fine." I snorted. Typical of the Ministry to attempt to infuse some form of calm when there was none to speak of. "After the raid, however, in which several prominent Death Eaters were captured, he was forced to accept the return of Voldemort." I nodded slightly. Although I was still quite stunned, the shock at his return had sunken in a bit. I had always hoped beyond all hope that he would never return, but a nagging corner in the back of my mind had suggested otherwise.

"Is the Order started up again?" I asked. My voice had come back a bit, and was not as terrified as before.

"Yes. As soon as we received word of his return, I immediately reinstated the Order. We have been working for little over a year now. All the professors are members as well, which reminds me of the third thing." Here he stopped to pull an envelope with the Hogwarts crest stamped on the back. He handed it to me, and I traced the ornate stamp. "This is for Crystal. You will find a complete list of everything she will need in the envelope. Normally she would have been accepted into the school here, but I persuaded them to let Hogwarts extend its invitation instead."

The curiosity in my eyes was apparently evident, for the Headmaster's own sparkled even more brightly. "Why?"

"Because, my dear, I am offering you the position of Potions Professor at Hogwarts."

I stared incredulously at him. And then I began to laugh. Not the chuckle when you find something amusing. No, this was hysterical laughter. Borderline insane laughter.

"Albus, I have not brewed several of the potions on the course syllabus that I remember from my own days at Hogwarts in years. What gives you the impression that I could teach others to make them?"

"I believe in you," was his simple answer.

"And what was wrong with the other professor?"

"Nothing." But the reply did not come from Albus; it came from the man in the corner. He did not step down in front of us, but started pacing along the edge of the room. "I had been teaching those dunderheads for years. Occasionally I can find a bright student willing to immerse themselves into the subtle and delicate art of Potions. But normally, most of those imbeciles have no more wit than a mediocre cabbage! Whatever their intelligence level, you will certainly find a challenge teaching them." He sneered. "I have not resigned in any way, shape, or form. I will be on an on-going mission for the Order for the remainder of the year, so I cannot afford to return and teach. That is why you are asked to come and do so."

"I see." Whoever this man was, he had already worked his way onto my bad side. I do not appreciate people treating me like the scum on a rotten flobberworm. Albus seemed to sense my feelings, for he continued.

"As for Harry," here I perked up, completely forgetting the other man. How was he? "Harry has been through a great deal. The loss of Sirius has upset him a great deal, and we decided to keep him at Hogwarts over the summer for safety." Though slight, I heard the hesitancy in the Headmaster's voice at the very last word. "Other than that unfortunate mishap, Harry has been doing quite well. He takes after his father." I looked down. So he hadn't changed at all really. That meant it was going to be even harder to face him. Wait a minute. I hadn't even said I was going back! I looked up at the Headmaster, that ever-present twinkle in his eyes threatening to consume his face. That old stick-footed son of a hippogriff. He certainly knew how to get what he wanted. But even though I was still not happy with him for refusing to let me raise Harry, the chance to see him was worth it so much more. So much more than he could ever imagine.

"Fine. I'll teach, and I'll take Crystal."

"Excellent!" The Headmaster brought his hands together delightfully. "My comrades, our work here is done." He nodded to both McGonagall and the man no longer in the corner. "I will meet you both outside in less than five minutes. My dear, it's good to have you back." I sent him a death glare, which he only smiled broadly at. With a sweep of his robes, he was gone.

Professor McGonagall stood up as well. "It's good to have you back, Serena Potter."

"Strazinski." I interrupted. "My name is Serena Strazinski now."

"Well then, Professor Strazinski, I will see you at Hogwarts."

"The same to you." I sent her a broad grin, which she returned to the best of her ability. With a swish of her robes, she was gone as well.

That left the man in the corner. His eyes were changing from sapphire blue to midnight black: his hair was lengthening slowly as well. I assume it was a potion he drank instead of a spell, for spells would wear off in a matter of days instead of hours. He began to say something, then caught sight of his hands. His fingers, which before were average sized, were elongating quickly. His eyes widened and he quickly rushed out the door. The last sight I saw of him was his billowing black robes and shoulder-length curtain of black hair.


End file.
